Small town romance boxed set

by Goodwin, Emily

  I swallow hard, my fingers shaking. I stare at the message. I’m scared to see what he has to say. Finally, I press play.

  “Haley,” he says, and I know right away this wasn’t a wrong number. He meant to call me. “I don’t know what to say.” His words slur just a bit. I think he was drunk when he recorded this. “Other than I’m sorry. I’ve been a complete wanker and I’m so sorry. I wish I had an excuse, something good to tell you that will make you forgive me, that will make you love me again. But I don’t. You say you’re broken, but you’re not. I’m the one who’s fucked up, and you shouldn’t be with me. I left because you’re too good for me. I can’t keep promises and stay clean and be there for you. The darkness inside is taking over, and you’re too beautiful to be blackened by me. I love you, Haley. Please, call me back. I need you so fucking bad right now. Even if you hate me and never want to see me again, just call. I’m trying not to, but I can’t. I…I…” His voice is muffled, and I can’t tell what he’s saying. Tears roll down my cheeks. The emotion in his voice hurts me. “Please, Haley, call me.”

  I listen to the message two more times. I don’t hesitate. I call him back. My heart hammers with each ring. Answer, please answer. I get his voicemail. I open my mouth to talk after the beep but give up and end the call. He’ll see I called back at least.

  I put my head in my hands. What the hell am I supposed to do?

  “Mom,” I say. “I’ve never felt so lost or alone. First, I lost you, and I wanted to die too. I let myself die inside, I really did and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it until I met Aiden, and I loved him so much. He brought me back, made me happy and made me feel love. And now he’s gone too, asking for me back. Fool me twice, shame on me, I know.”

  I close my eyes, tears freely falling down my face. “Please, Mom, I need you. Just give me a sign or something. I don’t know what to do.”

  I let out a deep breath and go inside. I’m not going to get a sign. There is no one up there looking out for me. How could there be?

  I go upstairs and get into the shower, sitting on the floor as hot water rushes down on me. I have no strength left, nothing inside me to keep going. I lie back, wanting to fall asleep and wake somewhere else, somewhere heartache doesn’t exist.

  My phone rings.

  I sit up, my eyes going wide. It’s on the counter, and I can reach it from here. I dry my hand on the towel hanging next to the shower and grab the phone. I don’t recognize the number, but I know the area code to be from California. I turn off the shower and answer.

  “Haley?” A voice comes through before I can even say hello. “It’s Claire. Haley, I know what happened, and I don’t want to bother you, but…it’s Aiden. There’s been an accident.”

  Haley

  The air leaves my lungs and my wet skin prickles with cold. “Is he okay?” I ask.

  “No,” Claire says. “He’s not, and the doctors don’t know—” She breaks down crying. “I’m sorry,” she says, sniffling.

  I put my hand out, catching myself on the shower wall. I’m trembling as I slide down. “What happened?”

  “His car hit a pole. I think he took something and drove. They have him in surgery. He’s not conscious, and they don’t know if he’s going to wake up.”

  I don’t breathe. I don’t move. And I don’t want to live my life without Aiden. “Where is he?” I ask, finding the resolve inside myself to stand. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  She gives me directions and says she’ll get a flight booked. All I have to do is get myself to the airport. I thank her and hang up. I’m still standing in the shower, naked and shivering, too stunned to move. I was mad at Aiden, wanting to hate him. I knew the possibilities of us getting back together and working through our problems was small, but part of me believed it was going to happen. It won’t now, not if Aiden doesn’t make it.

  I close my eyes, feeling like I’m going to throw up. My lip trembles, and I bite the inside of my cheek. I can’t cry. Not now. I pull back the shower curtain and get out, wrapping a towel around my wet body.

  I have to get to Aiden. I have to tell him it’s okay, and I forgive him, and that I love him, the real him. And I will always love him, even if he’s gone. Tears roll down my cheeks. He can’t leave me. Not this way. Not forever. I need him, I love him, and even if his lips never touch mine again, he needs to be okay. He needs to know he saved me, that he put out the flames and kept the fire from swallowing me whole, burning me until there was nothing left but ash and dust.

  I throw open a dresser drawer and pull out underwear and socks, letting the towel drop. Why couldn’t I have done the same for him? Why wasn’t I enough to save him too? Oh, god. He had called me hours before the accident.

  A sob escapes me, and I pitch forward, catching myself on the bed. Is this my fault? If I had answered, if we had talked, would he be okay?

  Chrissy presses her nose against me, and I get up, nodding. “Right,” I tell her. I have to get up, get dressed, drive to the airport. I put on yoga pants and a t-shirt. I throw clothes in a bag, not paying attention to what’s going in. I hurry into the bathroom and add my toothbrush, brush, and makeup case. That’s good enough. If I need anything else, I can buy it.

  Water drips from my hair, soaking my shirt. I’m still shivering, but I don’t notice. My heart hurts and frustration rips it apart. I need to be with Aiden. Now. He needs me too.

  I call Lori as I speed to the airport. She’s coming over in the morning to feed the horses and take care of Chrissy, then will be back at night. I forward her all the numbers to call to ask for help. She says she’ll handle it, and tells me to just go to Aiden. She’ll figure it out.

  I’m too numb to worry about anything else. I thank her and hang up, tears blurring my vision. The miles stretch on forever, and the desperation builds the closer I get. Hang on, Aiden. Just hang on. I’m coming. You’re going to be okay. For the first time in months, I pray, asking God to have mercy on someone as damaged and conflicted as Aiden.

  Claire calls me when I pull into the airport parking lot. I’ve never driven myself and don’t know where to go.

  “Hello?” I say into the phone, my heart dropping, terrified of bad news.

  “Haley,” she says, her voice tight. “You have a flight in two hours. It stops in Vegas but then comes here. It’s the best I could do this late. There aren’t a lot of flights out of Billings.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “How is he?”

  “I don’t know,” she tells me. “Still in surgery, I think. I haven’t heard anything else. But I will let you know if I do.”

  “Thank you again.” I park and get out. Claire needs my email address so she can forward everything to me.

  “Haley,” she says after she sends the email. “I don’t know the full story,” she starts. “And I didn’t ask. But I do know Aiden didn’t walk way because he doesn’t love you.”

  My throat tightens and I close my eyes, slowing to a stop. If he still loves me, why did he leave? “I wish that were true,” I finally say.

  “He loves you,” she says. “I’ve worked on and off for Aiden since his start; I know him well. He opened up to you, and I’ve never seen him do that before. He loves you, Haley. He still loves you, and whatever his reason was for walking away might not make sense to us, but it does to him. His mind…it doesn’t work like other people’s.”

  I mop up the tears that fall and walk into the airport. “If you see him,” I say slowly. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

  “I will.” She takes a few seconds to collect herself. “A car will pick you up from LAX and bring you to the hospital.”

  “Okay.” I close my eyes and take a breath. He’s going to be okay. He has to be. He promised me he would never leave me. He might have walked away, but he can come back. He will come back.

  * * *

  Six hours later, the plane takes off from Las Vegas. I stare out the window, so numb I’m calm. Claire texted me, telling me that Aiden was out of surgery
and in recovery. The doctors “did all that they could do” and now the rest was up to Aiden to pull through or not.

  He is lying in a hospital bed, alone, living out one of his worst fears. It kills me to think about him by himself, surrounded by doctors and nurses but ultimately alone. Claire is there at least, and though she’s his employee, she’s just as much a friend.

  I close my eyes, a vision forming in my mind beyond my control. It’s of Aiden, lying bandaged and bruised in a hospital bed. A band of gauze wraps around his head like in the movies. I take his hand and sit with him throughout the night. Then he wakes up and it’s a miracle. His first words are “Haley, I love you.” We kiss and live happily ever after.

  But that’s not life.

  Life doesn’t hand out happily ever afters. You have to work for them, claw your way through the darkness, through all the trials and tribulations, and find your own happiness. Then you hold on to it like it’s life itself, and in a sense it is. It’s someone else’s life, but it’s a part of you, living, breathing, beating in sync with your heart.

  Aiden is my happily ever after. He is my second chance. And I want to be his.

  “Do you want my sweater?” the old woman next to me asks.

  Goosebumps cover my arms, and I don’t realize I’m cold until she says something. “No thanks. I’m fine.”

  She extends a pink and yellow knit sweater. “Please, honey. I brought extra.”

  I just nod and she drapes it over me. “Thanks,” I say softly.

  “Who in L.A. are you going to see?” she asks.

  “A friend,” I say, closing my eyes in a long blink.

  “I hope things turn out all right for them.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m going to see my great-grandson. He was born a few hours ago.”

  I force a smile. “Congratulations. That’s exciting.”

  “He’s my fourth great-grandchild. I never thought I’d live long enough to see this many.” She smiles, and wrinkles form around her red lips. “I wish my Harold were alive to see them.” She lets out a sigh. “He’s been gone for twenty years, and I miss him every day.”

  “That must be hard,” I say quietly and turn, hiding my tears.

  “It is,” she continues. “But we had a lot of good years together.” She taps her chest. “He’s with me, right here. Always.”

  I bit my lip. “Always.”

  The old woman is quiet the rest of the flight. She gives me one more smile as we part ways. I get my bag from the overhead storage and fall in step with the crowd slowly walking off the plane. I want to push past them and run. Anything to get to Aiden.

  I see a man in a suit holding a sign with my name on it. He leads me through the busy airport and into a car. The sun is rising on the horizon. My eyes flutter closed on the drive to the hospital, and I get flashes of the start of dreams, dreams about Aiden.

  I see the first time we made love, feel the passion between us that neither could resist. I see us cantering through a thunderstorm, cold rain pelting our bodies. And I see the first time we went out, the first time I had a flashback in front of him. I want to be able to feel his arms wrap around me again, to feel his heart beating against mine.

  “Miss?” the driver says, shaking me out of dreamland. I land in cold reality. “We’re here.”

  I blink, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. I fumble and get out of the car, thanking the driver and wondering if I should tip him. I have no cash on me. Whatever. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.

  Aiden matters.

  I walk into the cold hospital and look around. I’ve never been to L.A. before. Everything is huge, and everywhere is crowded. I text Claire that I’m here and she quickly responds, giving me a room number and telling me not to ask for Aiden by name. Fans have already tried sneaking in. I walk behind a group of three nurses grumbling about the early hours and stop by the desk in the lobby.

  “Can I help you?” a volunteer asks. She eyes me up and down and smiles sympathetically.

  I nod. “I’m here to see a friend. He’s in the ICU.” I look down at my phone. “Room two-oh-three.”

  She types something into the computer. “Ah, I see him. And what is your name, honey?”

  “Haley Parker.”

  “Haley,” she repeats, running her fingers along the computer screen. I assume she’s checking a list of approved visitors, making sure I’m not a crazed fan. “I’ll let them know you’re on your way,” she says, and she gives me a paper map, highlighting where I need to go in pink marker.

  I walk through hallways, carefully keeping track of signs so I don’t get lost. I take an elevator up several flights and go down another hall. Claire is in the ICU waiting room, a hospital blanket draped over her shoulders. She’s leaning against the wall with her eyes closed and her phone in her hand.

  She sits up when the door closes behind me. “Haley,” she says, stretching her arms above her head. I go over by her and drop my bag on the ground. She hugs me then leads me to another door and gets buzzed in.

  A young nurse with long blonde hair in a perfect French braid takes me to Aiden’s room. He’s right across from the nurses’ station, and the curtains aren’t pulled around his bed. I can see through the glass wall, and my stomach flip-flops.

  “You can talk to him,” the nurse says softly. “He can’t respond, but he might be able to hear you.”

  I clench my jaw, my eyes widening in horror as we close in on him. The nurse steps inside the room. I close my eyes and cross the threshold.

  “Aiden,” she says. “You have a visitor.”

  He’s worse than I imagined. His face is bruised and swollen, hidden behind tubes and wires. He’s hooked up to multiple machines, including one that is breathing for him. A sheet is lightly draped over his body, hiding the damage to his torso.

  A brace is around his neck, and his left arm is propped up on a pillow. Black rods run along the length, screwed in place and I cringe when I see the metal going through his flesh and into his bone. His skin is stained with iodine and blood, and seeing the flesh pucker in around the screws makes me sick. Blood rushes from my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

  The nurse rushes over and takes my arm, leading me a few steps forward and into a chair next to the bed.

  “Deep breaths,” she says.

  I nod and inhale slowly. I wipe my eyes and move to the edge of the chair. The world is spinning and my ears are ringing. My vision blacks, and I think I might pass out. I lean back, not wanting to fall onto Aiden or pull one of the many tubes or wires connected to him.

  It’s terrifying to see him like this. He hardly looks like himself. I focus on the slow, steady beeping of the heart monitor and look at his face. “Aiden,” I say softly, reaching out and trying to find a patch of unbandaged skin to touch. I sweep my fingers over the top of his right hand. “Aiden, I’m here.” Gently, I lace my fingers through his. “I’m sorry it took so long, but I’m here now.” I close my eyes, pushing out tears. They splash onto the bed. “I love you,” I say softly. “Please don’t leave me.”

  When I thought my heart couldn’t hurt any worse, the tiny pieces rip again. “What’s wrong with him?” I ask, scared to hear the answer. “Why isn’t he awake?”

  “He’s in an induced coma,” she says. Is that good? Is being in an induced coma better than being in a non-induced coma? “We’re monitoring intracranial pressure right now; it’s higher than it should be, but not high enough to require opening the skull.”

  I softly stroke his skin. This isn’t happening. It’s a nightmare—a horrible, horrible nightmare.

  “He has six broken ribs and a punctured lung. His left arm is fractured in three places, and he has a right fibular fracture and unstable blood pressure.”

  The nurse moves back to Aiden, checking on him and adjusting tubes. I try to swallow everything she so calmly told me. “Is he going to be okay?”

  She gives me a small smile. “I can’t answer that. The
bones can heal, but there’s no telling the damage from the head injury until he’s awake.”

  “Do you know when he’ll wake up?”

  She moves along the bed, fixing the sheet. The room is warm, yet seeing a thin sheet draped over him doesn’t seem like enough. “The doctor will reassess him in a few hours. A lot depends on the intracranial pressure. If it’s not down enough, a lumbar-peritoneal shunt will be put in.”

  I just nod, not understanding what she is talking about. All I know is Aiden’s brain is swollen, and that’s not a good thing. At all.

  “I’ll be in the nurses’ station if you need me,” she says before she goes to the door. “And I’ll be coming in every fifteen minutes to assess him. Take your time, talk to him. There is a bathroom down the hall and coffee in the waiting room.”

  “Thank you,” I say. She leans in and pulls the curtain to give me some privacy. I slide my other hand under his, cupping his fingers in mine. “Aiden, I’m not sure if you can hear me. I really do love you. I love you so much. Whatever happened, whatever made you think you had to leave, I forgive you for it, and I want to help you. You said we were meant to be, and I believe you. I think we are meant to be too. I need you to hang on and pull through so you can wake up. We can’t be together if one of us leaves.”

  I wait, my breath bated, for him to squeeze my fingers or flutter his eyes. But there is no movement except the mechanical rise and fall of his chest.

  “I posted Sundance on the adoption site,” I tell Aiden. “I think he’ll make someone really happy, even if he is lazy. Aurelia is getting big too. She tries to boss Gandalf around. It’s pretty funny to see that big guy move away from the water trough when she comes over. I blame you for that,” I say with a half smile. “You pretty much raised her.”

  “And Phoenix…” I trail off. I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to tell him bad news. “She’s the same. I think she misses you, actually. We all miss you.” I rub his skin. “I rode Shakespeare a few times, and Benny is still fat as ever.”